


The Pop Up

by chelztoddbrooke



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anxious David Rose, Cute, David Rose Deserves Nice Things, David Rose is a Good Person, David Rose is a Nice Person, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Husbands, Insecurity, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, New York City, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:26:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27645461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelztoddbrooke/pseuds/chelztoddbrooke
Summary: David and Patrick travel to New York City for a Rose Apothecary Pop Up event. Insecurities abound, for both parties.Love, fluff, and David being David.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 3
Kudos: 107





	The Pop Up

Patrick’s stomach tightened as the plane banked over the island. New York City. Part of him still worried this was where David really wanted to be. He worried their life in Schitt’s Creek was too small and the big city would lure him away. That had been the thought running through his head every second in the five days since he left David at the airport. The elation that oozed out of every text message David sent since arriving in New York did nothing to ease his concerns.

“This is only temporary,” he murmured to himself for the millionth time. Shortly after the wedding and settling into the new house, he and David sat down to review their business goals. Expansion was always part of the plan, but neither felt ready for a full franchise. Instead they were going to do a series of pop up shops, the first in New York and the second in LA. If both of those were successful, they would investigate other dates and locations.

He turned on his phone to read the last email David had sent. It had step by step transit instructions to get from the airport to the AirBnB they’d rented for the week as well as a reminder of how to use the transit app David had put on his phone the week before. He smiled at the closing line: If you get overwhelmed CALL ME. XOXO

Patrick navigated his way through the airport, onto the AirTran system and finally arrived at the station that would take him into the city. He was so focused on getting his metro card that he nearly missed the man standing next to the machine holding the sign with his name on it.

“Hi,” David grinned. He expected David to be somehow different. Colder, detached, a more native New York quality to him. But there he stood, just David in his signature black and white sweater, skirted pants and obviously delighted to see his husband.

“Hey,” Patrick replied finally, throwing his arms around his husband’s waist, crumpling the handmade sign between them. “What are you doing here?” he asked, pushing back to see David’s face.

“Well right now I am feeling grateful that you follow directions. If you would’ve gone to the other Subway station or taken a cab this would have been a real mess,” he laughed. “You sounded anxious on the phone last night and I got done at the store early so…” His face pinched the way it did when he was afraid he was showing too much heart.

“That’s pretty selfless of you, David,” Patrick teased, siphoning off some of David’s insecurity.

“I really didn’t want to have to run all over the city to find which godforsaken subway station you might have accidently sent yourself to, so it’s really not that selfless,” David played it off with the careless flick of one hand. He knew it wasn’t very New York to pick someone up at the airport, but Patrick _had_ sounded anxious on the phone so David thought he might fair better with a guide for his first foray into the NYC subway system. And if that meant David got to set eyes on his husband a whole hour earlier, so be it.

“Sure, David,” Patrick smirked, reaching out to cup his husband’s face and draw him in for a kiss.

David broke the kiss and buried is face in Patrick’s neck, inhaling the familiar scent of home. As much as he was enjoying being back in New York, he found himself missing his sweet little cottage in Elmdale county and the wonderful man he lived there with.

“So glad you’re finally here,” he murmured against Patrick’s ear, trying to keep his tone light. “You ready to get this adventure started?”

Patrick nodded dumbly, still processing the enormity of David’s gesture. The man came an hour out of his way. A blush dusted his cheeks as he realized how unfounded his worries had been.

“You ready?” David repeated, tugging Patrick towards the subway platform.

David used his large body to create a space for he and Patrick in the crowded subway car. He widened his stance, hooking one arm around a support pole and flaring his other elbow just enough to give them some breathing room but not enough to “that guy”. As the train began moving, Patrick stumbled forward, catching himself against David’s chest.

“You should probably hold on,” David chuckled. Patrick nodded, fisting his hands into David’s sweater, and pressing up to kiss him. David readily obliged, hooking his free arm around his husband’s shoulders.

“David, I don’t think we got off at the right stop,” Patrick mentioned, comparing the name of the station to the directions David had given to him.

“It’s fine,” David insisted, pulling him towards the stairs.

“David?”

The man drew up short, eyes closed, chin in the air and hands flailing at his sides. He hadn’t expected Patrick to read the directions after he’d gone to pick him up. His plan relied on the man just blindly trusting David knew where he was going.

“I don’t want you to make a big deal out of this,” he started.

That sentence along with David’s body language made Patrick suddenly nervous. “What did you do, David?” Patrick bit out.

“Nothing!” he snapped. He pulled his lips between his teeth, reining himself in. “After we talked last night, I realized you were only going to be in New York a couple days and with the store you might not actually get a chance to see the city. So I made sure to have everything wrapped up at the store before you got here so we could spend the afternoon…doing things…together.” His fingers fluttered, touching all of his rings in turn as he looked everywhere but at Patrick.

“David…” Patrick’s expression went soft. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I couldn’t live with the idea of bringing you to one of the greatest cities in the world and you having seen none of it outside of a gallery space in Chelsea,” David shrugged one shoulder.

“No, I mean you don’t have to feel awkward about doing nice things. You are a _nice_ person.” Patrick explained, his lips curling into a smile at the memory of his unwillingness to refer to David as such. David’s eyes dropped away again. A wave of overwhelming emotion crashed over his face only to wash away just as quickly.

“I told you not to make a big deal out of this.” His tone was petulant, like that of a child trying to get out of an uncomfortable conversation.

“It _is_ a big deal, David. You deserve to be appreciated.” Patrick took one of David’s hands, grounding him. David nodded, acknowledging Patrick’s reassurance but still not wanting to have one of _those_ conversations in the middle of a subway station.

“Well can you appreciate me on street level, it smells like pee down here and I think there is something dead in the corner,” he grimaced.

“Ew, David,” Patrick replied. David huffed at his sister’s familiar catch phrase falling from his husband’s lips. Patrick chuckled and grabbed him by the shoulders; turning him back towards the stairs.

They emerged into the hustle and bustle of Time Square. There were people everywhere, lights and sound coming from all directions, everything drawing Patrick’s attention all at once. David pulled him out of the way of a man rather aggressively hawking Big Bus tours of the city.

“It looks just like it does on TV,” he said, voice full of awe. David held his phone up and captured a picture of them in front of the iconic jumbotrons.

“If we head up this way, you can see all the theaters and there’s a pizza place around there where I thought we could grab some lunch. Then we’ll make our plans for the rest of the day?” David suggested.

“Show me your city, David,” Patrick obliged, ignoring the faint tug of his earlier insecurities as the words left his mouth.

“We’ll start with the touristy parts. I’ll save the seedy underbelly for another time,” David replied with a wink. Patrick affectionately rolled his eyes. Based on the stories he’d heard, he could only imagine what dark corners of the city David had ventured to once up on a time.

After lunch they stumbled into a store tucked off the beaten path that sold theater memorabilia. Patrick bought a Cabaret mug and the sheet music for Dear Evan Hansen. From there David led him on a walking tour of midtown that took them past MoMA, St. Patrick's Cathedral, Rockefeller Center, Grand Central Terminal, the New York Public Library, Bryant Park and ended at the Empire State Building.

The last stop of the day was at the gallery in Chelsea. The Rose Apothecary logo looked so at home on the front glass that it made Patrick’s heart ache. He followed David into the building, finally realizing just how much work David had done to turn the space into an stylish boutique that mirrored their flagship location in Schitt’s Creek while catering to the wants and needs of the city dweller demographic.

Wooden and metal industrial style shelves lined one wall, food and wine storage along the opposite wall and three farmhouse tables dotting the open space, two covered in tasteful product displays and the third full of gift bags for the launch party. There was a small bar and sitting area in the front window and a cash register and counter at the back.

“The fixtures look nice,” Patrick noted, a smile playing at his lips. They went back and forth about the display furniture; the pieces David thought were prefect were way out of their budget, so Patrick spent hours finding similar items without the “one of a kind hand-crafted” label. David insisted their New York patrons would recognize cheap fixtures, but Patrick reminded him they were not there to buy the fixtures, they were there for the products and he had every confidence David could sell the Rose Apothecary brand out of a cardboard box if he felt so inclined.

“It turned out better than I expected,” David replied flatly, fussing with the displays. “Alexis…”he muttered under his breath, straightening the lip balms. “Has to touch everything.” Patrick watched him for a moment. His features were suddenly tight and tension filled his frame. The distraction of their touristy afternoon had faded away, replaced by anxiety.

“David, the store looks amazing,” he acknowledged. “You’ve done an incredible job.”

“Well, let’s just hope everyone else thinks so,” David bit out, straightening the already straight bottles of body milk.

Patrick had been expecting this. The guest list for their launch included many of the people who had abandoned David not only when he moved to Schitt’s Creek but also at their wedding when a music festival in Norway took priority. He still had a need to prove himself to these people. Patrick suspected it had more to do with needing closure rather that David actually wanting their approval. He hoped his husband wasn’t disappointed again.

Patrick knew this wasn’t a ledge he could talk David down from, it was one he would have to join him on until the feeling passed. He decided to change his approach. He walked over to the coolers. He rooted around until he found the selection of cheeses, fruit spreads, and cured meats they favored at home. He fronted the shelves he removed things from before grabbing a package of crackers and the bottle of red he’d been meaning to try.

“What are you doing?” David asked as he watched Patrick fill a Rose Apothecary tote bag.

“Let’s call it a night. Everything is good to go here and I haven’t seen you in five days.” 

“And you’re just going to _take_ some of our limited stock?”

Patrick pursed his lips. David was baiting him. They had a very serious conversation about not giving handouts or pulling from the stock while they were in New York since they were only bringing in limited quantities of their products. He plucked a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and held it up in front of David’s face before reaching around him to tuck it into his back pocket.

“That’s not actually…”David swallow thickly as Patrick’s hand slid across his ass. “erm…enough money…”

“And I know you’re not actually going to put it in the cash register,” Patrick quipped, eyes full of mirth. “Let’s go, David.” He gave his husband’s ass one more squeeze.

“Going!” David chirped, grabbing Patrick’s errant hand and leading him towards the door.

Patrick’s ploy had been successful. He was able to distract his husband with wine, food and a little intimacy for the remainder of the night. The man was calm and relaxed by the time they turned in for the night and Patrick hoped the spa appoint Alexis had arranged for David in the morning would keep him that way until the party.

* * *

“What’s this?” David’s voice rose an octave as he took in the sight in front of him. “What is happening?”

“I thought I would try something new” Patrick replied, his cheeks going pink as David’s eyes raked over him, studying the taut white Henley tucked into tight black moto jeans stacked over a fashionable sneaker and topped off with a grey bomber jacket.

“I see.” David nodded slowly, rubbing his chin.

“Not good?” Patrick turned a deeper shade of red.

“Actually,” David’s head tilted his head and toyed with his rings, evaluating the outfit for what it was rather than an abrupt change he wasn’t prepared for. The pieces themselves were gorgeous. Beautiful expensive fabrics carefully made and tailored to fit Patrick. And _did they fit_. The jacket hit him in all the right places, the shirt stretched almost sinfully over his broad chest, and the way the pants hugged his sculpted thighs nearly gave David palpitations. “Very good,” he decided, heat seeping into his tone.

“Yeah?” Patrick replied with an eager grin as he hooked one arm around David’s waist and drew him in.

“Yeah,” David parroted, sealing his lips over his husband’s. He broke away a moment later, shaking his head. “But you look nothing like my husband.” He found himself suddenly missing blue button downs and straight legged midrange denim. “Why the sudden need for change?”

“I thought tonight might be easier for you if I fit in with the crowd a little more,” Patrick shrugged.

David studied his husband’s face for a moment. Patrick’s earnest expression brought tears to his eyes. He took a step back, trying to keep his composure.

“That’s so…” he trailed off, his hands flailing as he struggled to find a word big enough to encompass all that gesture was. Thoughtful? Caring? So very Patrick? And so very _unnecessary._ He let it hang there between them, knowing his reaction was enough of an end to that sentence.

“Look, I am obviously dealing with a lot right now and what I really need from you…” he stepped back into Patrick’s arms. “What I _always_ need from you is for you to be exactly who you are. That’s what makes me feel safe. Just you.” He slid a hand down Patrick’s chest, reveling in the feel of the luxurious fabric.

“Understood,” Patrick smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “I think I can return some of the these items,” he added, rubbing his nose along David’s cheekbone.

“No!” David gasped, fisting Patrick’s labels. Patrick blinked, startled. “We are definitely keeping these clothes, we are just not wasting them on ungrateful spectators.” David waggled his eyebrows and pressed a quick kiss to Patrick’s lips. “These people wouldn’t be impressed if you handed them gold bars at the door,” he remarked, rolling his eyes.

“Can I remind you of that when you are anxiously trying to please them later?” Patrick wondered.

“Of course not, this is a double standard I fully intend to participate in,” David scoffed, walking over to the closet, and pulling out Patrick’s simple blazer and a blue light knit sweater. “Try this.”

Patrick chuckled softly, taking the clothes, and going to change.

* * *

Patrick watched the steady flow of people in and out of the gallery space. He’d barely left the cash register since the party started. He wondered, not for the first time, if they’d brought enough stock to get them through the weekend. The meticulous PR plan Alexis put in place was clearly working. Speaking of his sister-in-law, the young woman took advantage of the break in the line and sauntered up to the cash register.

“What happened to your cute little outfit?” she wondered, having been the one to assist in his purchases earlier in the day while David was being pampered at the spa.

“David vetoed it,” Patrick shrugged.

“Oh,” Alexis pulled a face. “I thought for sure he’d like it.”

“He did like it, he just said we are not going to waste it on ‘ungrateful spectators’,” he chuckled, remembering just how much David liked his new clothes.

“Not something he has to worry about since none of the ungrateful spectators have actually shown up,” she grimaced, gesturing with her fingers.

“I figured as much,” Patrick sighed, his eyes finding David who was currently helping a customer. “I saw him tucking away some of the goodie bags in case they show up later.”

“I thought about offering them money to show up, but it wasn’t in the budget.”

“Alexis!” he admonished.

“They were his only friends,” she whined.

“And he doesn’t need them, especially if they aren’t here for the right reasons,” Patrick knew Alexis was just trying to help her brother, but paying people to be David’s friends was not the right way to go about it. David told him how his parents had “subsidized” his earlier success in New York and how betrayed he felt when he’d found out. Patrick was not about to let that happen again. David deserved every bit of success he had garnered over the past few years in business and in life. If four people who claimed to be his friends couldn’t show up for him, that was their loss.

“Ok, fine,” Alexis huffed. “But I was just trying to help.”

“I know, and you have helped. There is no way we would have this much foot traffic if it hadn’t been for your PR plan. We really appreciate it.”

Her face brightened considerably, preening under the adulation. “Well, you’re welcome,” she grinned, tapping him on the nose.

David finally made his way to the back of the store. He’d been working the crowd, but everyone was browsing on their own or talking amongst themselves at the moment.

“How’s it going?” he asked, setting a signature cocktail in front of his husband, and using his now free hand to stroke up and down the man’s back.

“Really well, almost everyone has bought at least something,” Patrick replied.

“Good, good,” David nodded.

“You ok?” Patrick could feel the tension rolling off of the man standing next to him. “David…” he started, only to be interrupted by a commotion at the door.

“DA-VID ROSE!” an overwhelmingly stylish man shouted, emphasizing the syllables in David’s name.

“Teague, hi!” David greeted, his voice pitching high. He moved out from behind the counter and handed his four friends their gift bags. None of them offered any sort of affection towards David, with the exception of Teague, they barely offered him a smile.

“You remember Jamie and Libby and of course Yates,” Teague half introduced his posse, finishing on a sullen looking man who dressed in monochrome, similar to David, but on him it looked dour and glum.

“Yates? Is that a first name?” Patrick asked before he could stop himself. David sent him a dark glare for his efforts. He shrugged his shoulders in apology.

“It’s a family name,” Yates replied flatly, his eyes glancing around the room clearly unimpressed by what they saw.

“This place is just adorable,” Teague exclaimed. “Such a darling little operation you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Thank you, we’re really proud of it,” Patrick interjected again, not liking the condensation in Teague’s tone.

“We?” the man’s eyes went back and forth between David and Patrick.

“This is Patrick. My husband and business partner,” David introduced.

“Husband?! That’s big news!”

“It wouldn’t have been news if you’d accepted the invitation to our wedding.” David quipped, surprising everyone. Patrick bit back a laugh at the group’s stunned faces. “I believe there was a musical festival that took priority.” David’s eyes narrowed and dramatically brought his hands to his hips.

“Oh. That. We weren’t sure that was an actual invitation,” Teague continued, Jamie and Libby nodding along. “Who gets married in a place called Schitt’s Creek anyway?”

“People who live there!” David shouted, feeling defensive of the place he now called home.

“But you don’t live there anymore right? Aren’t you back in New York for good?”

“No, I am not! In two days I am getting on a plane and going home with my husband to our little cottage and the _darling little operation_ we run there.” He parroted Teague’s earlier statement, calling it out for the empty platitude it was.

“Oh. Then I guess you won’t be interested in seeing Sebastian’s new exhibit in Brooklyn on Tuesday. It’s invite only and I happened to have a few.”

David blinked at Teague. The man was well aware of David’s tumultuous history with Sebastian and was dropping his name to purposely push his buttons. The man he was years ago would have cowed to his so-called friend. He would have accepted the invitation for the challenge that it was and made himself completely miserable by spending the evening at his ex’s art exhibit. But he wasn’t than man anymore. He knew his worth now and he had Patrick to thank for that.

“Patrick has a ball game next Tuesday, I promised I would be there,” he replied finally. 

“Ok. Well.” Something like longing flashed across Teague’s face, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it came. “In that case…” The man looked around the space one more time, trying to look nonchalant, but his eyes betraying him. He was more impressed by David’s life than he was letting on.

“Well, we hope you enjoyed the Rose Apothecary pop up event! Follow us on social media for information on our next event and where to buy or products,” Alexis announced, ushering the group towards the door. She glanced back and winked at her brother. She’d been watching the conversation from across the room. While she was proud of how David handled himself, she wanted Teague and his merry band of misfits out of the way of actual paying customers.

“Thank you for stopping by, if you’re ever in Schitt’s Creek, look us up!” David called after them, earning a scowl from Yates and the two ladies and a dismissive wave from Teague.

Patrick rounded the counter and stood at David’s side. “You ok?” he asked, taking in the man’s wild eyes and flushed cheeks. He’d been both surprised and impressed by the interaction, but he wasn’t sure it was what David had expected from his first encounter with his friends in years.

“Yeah,” David replied absently, shaking out his limbs and taking a couple deep breaths. “I’m not sure why I ever thought they were my friends.”

“Life is complicated,” Patrick shrugged, giving David’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. He could no more tell David why he was friends with those people than he could explain why he’d gotten back together with Rachel so many times. “And it’s not really a big deal, but you know my game is Thursday, not Tuesday, right?” he mentioned.

“Ugh, whatever. You have a baseball game and I said I’d be there. What matters is I will not be in New York on Tuesday,” David huffed with a dramatic flail. “We have customers to attend to,” he added before storming off across the store.

* * *

David and Patrick we both a little drunk as they ambled through the crowd on the Brooklyn Bridge, half on frozen margaritas and half on the success of the pop up shop. They’d spent the day disassembling the displays and packing for home. Alexis met them for a celebratory cocktail on her way to an event with a new client; David and Patrick stuck around the kitschy little bar for dinner and dessert before taking in one more iconic New York sight.

David yelped as he dodged an overly enthusiastic cyclist. Patrick instinctively reached out to right him, hooking an arm around his waist and pulling him toward one of the pylons. David’s arms went around his shoulders, meeting him for a sloppy kiss.

“Mmh, I should have taken you some place fancy for your last night in New York,” he mused when he pulled away.

“You were the one who insisted we eat at ‘Cowgirl Seahorse’,” Patrick laughed.

“They have excellent frozen margaritas and I _needed_ you to try that dessert,” David reasoned, plucking at the shoulder seams on his husband’s sweater.

“David, it was a _baked potato_ made out of _ice cream_ ,” Patrick raised his eyebrows.

“And wasn’t it fantastic?” David had only ever eaten at Cowgirl Seahorse when he was three or four margaritas deep at Sunday brunch, but it had always been adequate if not quirky.

“It was certainly something,” Patrick agreed. He twisted in David’s hold, turning to look out over Manhattan. He had the same thoughts about New York as a whole. It was an overwhelming place and he’d only seen a fraction of a fraction of it. He was not opposed to coming back, even regularly, if their pop up plan continued to be successful.

“I am so ready to go home,” David sighed, setting his chin on Patrick’s shoulder.

“Really?” Patrick was surprised. Despite his conversation with Teague at the launch party, he still thought David might beg for a few more days of city life.

“Of course. I miss our bed and our store. And even the terrible mozzarella sticks at the café,” he tightened his hold on Patrick. “Our life in general. This isn’t us.”

“But it’s you,” Patrick admitted softly.

“Are you still worried I will be charmed away by the bright lights and the big city?”

“uh…”the smaller man stammered, a flush coming to his cheeks. David turned him back around.

“Patrick Brewer, I will always love New York. But when I lived here, I was so unsure of who I was and what I needed and I needed the noise and the people to distract me. I don’t need that anymore. Being here with you has shown me that. You said you’d make me happy in Schitt’s Creek and you have. More than you could ever know.”

Patrick swallowed thickly. The past few days had been an emotional whirlwind for both of them, but here they stood triumphantly on the other side. “I love you, David,” he whispered.

“Love you too,” David replied, drawing him in for a tender kiss. They stayed like that for a long time, living the perfect cliched New York City moment, kissing in the center of the Brooklyn Bridge as the sun set over Manhattan.

**Author's Note:**

> This story started with the "clothes" scene and evolved into something much longer. I could have gone on forever...I ended up cutting at least two scenes as it. I hope you enjoyed what I pieced together1
> 
> That dessert is an actual thing...or was... I had it when I went to NYC two years ago. It's just a bunch of flavors of ice cream shaped like a baked potato. 
> 
> Please forgive my NYC geography---while I did pour over map for awhile, I ultimately went with a combination of what I knew and what seemed to makes sense.


End file.
